


Don't You Know That I Can See You Fading?

by terramous



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Firefighter Carlos Reyes, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Overdose, Paramedic TK Strand, Whump, slightly to the left of medical accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terramous/pseuds/terramous
Summary: He first knew something was wrong when TK didn’t show up for his shift.“Chill, he’s going to be at the Captain’s appointment. You know he’s always there with his dad,” Paul said with a reassuring pat on Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos couldn’t help the weird feeling he had, but he tried to shrug it off.“Exactly, don’t get too worked up about it. We can handle ourselves for a few hours until he gets here,” Marjan quipped.💙Carlos has always wanted to know more about TK, but he didn't want to find out this way
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775494
Comments: 18
Kudos: 151
Collections: 9-1-1 Lone Star ▶ Carlos Reyes / Tyler Kennedy "TK" Strand





	Don't You Know That I Can See You Fading?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [howtosingit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtosingit/gifts).



> day 2 of brian week !!
> 
> for the bad things happen bingo prompt: please don't leave me
> 
> make sure to read the tags y'all it's sad

Carlos should’ve known something was wrong when TK showed up to his shift with a black eye.

He didn’t even look up as he felt the sofa cushion dip beside him. Although the jab of TK’s chin digging into his shoulder drew his focus. 

“Hey.”

“Mmm, hi,” TK whispered.

Carlos couldn’t help resting his head against TK’s. It was weirdly domestic, oddly comfortable to have TK slotting into his side like a puzzle piece. The word “boyfriend” was on the tip of his tongue, he only wished TK wanted that too. Instead they stayed toeing the line between being coworkers and something more. “What’s got you in such a cuddly mood?”

“I can stop if you want.”

“No. No, it’s fine.”

“Then you won’t mind me doing this.” Before Carlos could even ask what ‘this’ is, TK was already pulling the sandwich from Carlos’ grasp and by the time Carlos’ brain caught up and he moved to pursue TK, the paramedic had already sunk his greedy teeth in it, smiling like a cat who just escaped out a window with half of the Sunday roast. 

Carlos’ grin fell as he got a good look at TK for the first time that afternoon. TK’s glee fizzled out as he locked eyes with Carlos.

The mottled purple discolouration was hard to miss. TK looked like he was two snide comments away from discovering his villain character arc. 

He couldn’t even get a word out before TK interrupted him. Easily predicting what Carlos was going to say based off of his facial expression alone. 

“Combative patient took a swing. I’m okay though, you don’t have to worry.”

“Okay…” Carlos said, a little skeptically. “Just be more careful in future.”

TK winked. “I always am.”

🚑

Carlos could’ve helped when TK appeared on his doorstep in the middle of the night with bloodied knuckles, a split lip, and a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone.

At the sound of the door clicking shut, Carlos looked up from the vegetables he was chopping. Any thoughts he could have had about cross breezes or how he should remember to lock the door were extinguished as his eyes fell on TK.

Despite the late hour and dipping temperature, he was only wearing a white t-shirt. Carlos’ gaze zeroed in on the blood on the collar, trailing it up to meet TK’s even more concerning state, his face. It was clear he’d been in a fight, or at least walked really hard into someone’s fist. Multiple times.

Carlos set his knife on the cutting board and leant over to turn off the stove element. “TK?”

“Hi, Carlos. How are you?” TK asked, trying and failing to seem aloof and casual. As if he didn’t just walk through Carlos’ door uninvited and covered in blood.

“Fine… and you?”

“Good- I’m great. I was just on a walk and I was in the neighbourhood so I thought I’d stop by.”

“TK…” Carlos started, edging closer to TK who seemed oblivious to the whole situation. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I- Nevermind, why don’t you have a seat?” Carlos gestured towards his dining table as he ducked to grab a bag of frozen peas out of his freezer.

TK very awkwardly took a seat, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Thanks,” he muttered softly as Carlos tossed him the peas, gratefully pressing them to his face. 

Carlos pulled out his own chair next to TK and sat down, silently eyeing his coworker who had yet to explain why he was swooping in unannounced and covered in eagerly blossoming bruises.

“Are you going to tell me how you got hurt?” Carlos tilted his head slightly, imploring TK to answer. He located a small green box in record speed before turning back to TK as he unlatched and opened the first aid kit. 

“No.”

“That doesn’t help. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. If someone hurt you, or you’re in a bad way, I need to know.” 

TK hissed when Carlos began cleaning the graze on TK’s cheek. He likely hadn't really noticed it until now. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“You’ll tell my dad. He’ll never let me out of his sight, I can’t have him hovering over me like that.”

“Then talk to me, TK.”

“I got into a fight at the bar.”

"Oh..." was all that Carlos had to say, his administrations freezing. “Did you start it?”

“I didn’t throw the first punch, but yeah.”

“Why?”

TK shrugged. “I was angry.”

“At who?”

“I don’t know, everyone? I just needed to get it out.”

“Next time, why don’t you call me and we’ll find something better to do. I don’t know, smashing plates or anything less violent.”

TK hummed in acknowledgement and maybe some kind of agreement if Carlos was lucky. He flinched as Carlos began wiping his lip, eliciting a soft chuckle from the firefighter.

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you that it’ll sting. But you knew that. For someone who just got into a fight, you’re a wimp.”

“I’m not a wimp. You’re a wimp.”

“You’re so immature.”

“But you love me,” TK snickered, quickly snaking his arms around Carlos’ neck and pulling him in until their lips met. TK would never fail to take his breath away, even as Carlos forced himself to break their kiss, his hands cupping TK’s face. 

“Kissing me won’t make this go away.”

“If I kiss you hard enough it might.”

Carlos rubbed his thumbs over TK’s cheekbones, eyeing the dark bruise blossoming high on one side. “No, I think you need to go home and to bed.”

“You’re a buzzkill.”

“And you’re a reckless idiot who gets into fights.”

“You’re damn right I am.” TK’s eyes were alight with fire and mischief. “How about you find out exactly how reckless and idiotic I am.”

“No.” Carlos pulled away, not missing the way TK followed him like a moth drawn to a flame. TK’s hopeful expression fizzled into disappointment as he watched Carlos grab his keys. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

🚑

If TK let him, Carlos would’ve helped when he stumbled through his door and out of the rain in the middle of the night.

There was a knock at the door, barely audible over the movie. Carlos and Michelle shared a glance. It was late, definitely encroaching on midnight, and neither of them were expecting guests.

“You didn’t order pizza and forget to tell me, did you?” Carlos asked, only half joking.

Michelle shrugged. “Nope.”

“Alright, they might need help. Can you pause it real quick?” 

“Sure, do you want me to come with you?” As Carlos moved from his seat, Michelle poked around the couch cushions for the remote that must’ve wiggled its way into somewhere completely implausible in the time they had been watching the movie. 

Carlos smiled at her. “Nah, it’s probably my neighbours. They tend to cook enough food to feed an army when it’s only the two of them. Sometimes they come around with leftovers and make sure that I haven’t died here all on my own.” 

With a small noise of triumph, Michelle raised the remote from whatever crevice it had found itself in and paused the movie. Their background noise ceased instantaneously and left them with only the constant smattering of rain against the roof like a white noise generator. 

“Are these the ones that invite you to game night every few weeks?” 

Carlos rolled his eyes. “No, those are the other neighbours.”

“I’ve lived in the same apartment for seven years and I could not tell you the names of anyone else in the entire building. Aside from that lady with the wig I am ninety-five percent sure is a dead exotic bird of some sort. There is absolutely no way that it is hair and not the plumage of a very unlucky pheasant. I don’t know how you have the patience or memory space to get to know new people that you don’t work with.”

“It’s called being nice, ‘Chelle.” Carlos laughed. “Try it sometime.”

“You’re the worst.”

Carlos made his way over to his front door. He couldn’t see anything through the window next to the entrance, no car in the driveway or an indication of who could possibly be knocking on his door at this hour in the current weather predicament. The closest he got to figuring it out was the golden glow of the streetlight reflected in the raindrops clinging to the glass.

He didn’t know what he expected to find on the other side of the door when he opened it, but TK Strand was at the very bottom of that list. He always texted Carlos in advance when he wanted to come over and ruin another one of the firefighter’s shirts in his haste to rip it off. 

This wasn’t like that, though. If it was, TK’s hands would already be on him instead of clenched together and shaking as TK held them up to his mouth, looking up at Carlos like a deer caught in headlights. Under the glow of Carlos’ porch light, his eyes were evidently red-rimmed and his hair was dripping and filled with beads of rainwater. 

“TK?” he asked, caught off-guard by the whole situation. 

“I shouldn’t have come,” TK offered hurriedly, already withdrawing from the doorway and further towards the rain that was coming down in sheets around the edges of the patio.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Carlos grabbed TK’s wrist before the other man could continue in his retreat. TK looked a little shocked at the contact but didn’t pull away, choosing to just stare at Carlos with an unreadable expression. “Do you want to come in?”

“I should go,” TK whispered. It was barely audible over the rain. 

Carlos stepped aside from the door and nodded his head, encouraging TK to take those few steps forward. “No, come in, sit down. It’s raining and I’d feel better if you waited for an uber inside where it’s significantly less wet.” 

“I-”

“Just come in. Have some popcorn, we’re having a movie marathon.” 

TK raised a very skeptical brow. “We?”

“Michelle’s here too. Her choice, not mine,” Carlos supplied in such a hurry that he tumbled over the words. TK cracked a small smile even though Carlos was fully prepared to die of embarrassment. 

“I don’t wanna impose-”

“You could never. Come in.”

TK stayed a few timid steps behind Carlos as he followed the firefighter inside. 

“Hey TK,” Michelle called around a mouthful of popcorn, eliciting a smile from TK and slightly chipping away at the dark cloud hanging over his head. 

“Hi Cap,” he offered an awkward half-wave.

“Have a seat,” Carlos said as he pulled the bowl of popcorn from Michelle’s grasp, earning himself a glare as he passed it to TK who awkwardly held it.

“Thanks.”

They spent a while sitting in comfortable silence watching the movie. Michelle was appeased by the popcorn making its way back to her where she sat with it in her lap, curled around it protectively. Carlos was certain she’d hiss and whack him if he so much as thought about reaching for some. 

As the end credits rolled on, Carlos looked over to TK who sat with his knees pulled up to his chin and his arms wrapped around his legs like a protective cocoon, his eyes fixated on the floor. “TK?”

TK looked up, seeming a little startled by Carlos’ presence. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

The dam broke. 

In what seemed like only milliseconds, TK’s resolve shattered into a million pieces. Like a glass plate hurtling to the floor, he went from whole to tiny crystalline shards exploding in every direction until they settled in a beautiful yet sharp picture of destruction. The tears came loose fast as strangled and desperate sobs clawed their way up his throat. 

“Hey, hey,” Carlos cooed, immediately jumping to his feet and crossing the room to sit next to TK. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Never apologise for having feelings. It’s okay.” Carlos was surprised by the ease at which he pulled TK into his chest. His hair was wet and he was shuddering with what was probably a combination of his sobs and the lingering chill from the rain. Carlos heard the TV fall silent behind him. The only noise was the pattering of rain against the roof and TK’s shaky cries into Carlos’ shirt.

After a few minutes of no one saying anything and Carlos just rubbing TK’s back as he sobbed, TK spoke although his voice was muffled by Carlos’ shoulder.

“My dad’s sick.”

Carlos offered him a noise of sympathy and a pat on the head.

“It’s real bad.”

“I’m sorry, TK.”

A fresh wave of tears shook through TK as he cried harder into Carlos’ embrace. “I don’t want him to die.” It sounded as if TK was struggling to catch his breath. “I won’t make it if he dies.”

“Shh, don’t think like that. He’s not going anywhere, he’s too stubborn.”

TK continued to cry for a while, not bothering to lift his head from Carlos’ shirt until Michelle brought him a glass of water and her own sympathetic hugs. Carlos wasn’t sure if Michelle had heard much of what TK said, as his words were garbled by tears and smothered by his face tucked tightly against Carlos, but she smiled at him and took over holding onto TK, just as Carlos’ phone rang. 

With a soft utterance of “Sorry,” Carlos slipped into the kitchen, far enough away to focus on the conversation, but not so far that he couldn’t keep an eye on TK. To say he was worried was an understatement. 

“Hello.”

He probably should have expected it to be the captain calling him. Wherever TK went, his father’s worry was bound to follow. _“Carlos, have you heard from TK?”_

“Yeah, he’s on my couch. Why, what’s going on?”

_“He left not long after getting some bad news, I just need to make sure he’s okay.”_

Carlos glanced over to where Michelle was laughing lightly as TK straightened out her bangs as if he hadn’t been a mess of tears only moments ago. “He’s okay. Michelle is with him now, he seems to be doing better.”

_“Thank you for looking after him, Reyes.”_

“Anytime, Cap. He can stay here for the night if it works for both of you, we’re both on the same shift tomorrow anyway so I can give him a ride.”

_“If it’s okay with him, it’s okay with me. Let me know if I need to pick him up.”_

“Will do. Have a good night, sir.”

“You too, kid.” Carlos smiled as he hung up, sauntering back over to his friends, the mood seeming to have lifted even though TK paused to wipe away some tears every so often. 

“Let’s pick a different movie. TK’s choice.”

🚑

Carlos should’ve known, should’ve asked. Could’ve helped. 

He first knew something was wrong when TK didn’t show up for his shift. 

“Chill, he’s going to be at the Captain’s appointment. You know he’s always there with his dad,” Paul said with a reassuring pat on Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos couldn’t help the weird feeling he had, but he tried to shrug it off.

“Exactly, don’t get too worked up about it. We can handle ourselves for a few hours until he gets here,” Marjan quipped. “We’re the dream team.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “The dream team?”

“Never doubt me, Reyes. I’m always right.” 

After a few hours and even less calls, that’s when the anxiety growing in Carlos’ chest became all too real. Owen showed up, with some food he wanted to drop in for the team although they all insisted he should have just gone home. 

“It’s been real quiet, you should rest,” Mateo explained, trying to steer Owen back to his car by his shoulders. 

“He said the Q-word,” Judd groaned.

Marjan gave an exaggerated sigh, “we’re all doomed.”

“Where’s TK?” he asked after a quick sweep of the team, his expression not giving anything away, but Carlos assumed the captain was feeling something akin to what he was experiencing. 

“We were hoping you’d know,” Judd said, a weird inflection to his Texan drawl. Carlos couldn’t pin it down but he was certain the aloof atmosphere had quickly disappeared. 

“I’ll call him, one moment.” 

As Owen ducked away, pressing his phone to his ear, the alarm went off.

“This is because you said the Q-word,” Marjan said with an accusing finger pointed in Mateo’s direction as everyone quickly abandoned their hopes of eating. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

🚑

As soon as the truck pulled to a stop outside, Owen was already moving. There was a nervous energy to him that everyone else seemed to pick up on as they shared a look before following suit. 

I hope you’re okay. 

Carlos tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, switching into his professional mode. He had a job to do and worrying about TK would have to wait. He was probably fine anyway, likely just slept through his alarm and was living a life of bliss.

Carlos didn’t know what he expected. It was the late morning, bordering on the perfect time for brunch. The usual time they got calls like this. 

Houses, parks, even bathrooms of party venues or bars like this one. It wasn’t uncommon, people were waking up, walking their dog, clocking in, and that’s when the calls came rolling through. 

Overdoses. 

Easily some of the worst calls to attend. Carlos would never forget being a probationary firefighter and having to calm down a nine year old boy who found his father --his only parent-- in the bedroom and called 9-1-1. The man lived but his son would never forget it and Carlos still woke up in a cold sweat when it crept into his dreams. 

This time it felt different. Although they were Carlos’ least favourite scenes, they never felt like this one did. The air felt weird, weighing heavily in his lungs. 

Something was off. 

Captain Strand’s demeanour should’ve been the first sign. Carlos didn’t think he’d ever seen someone more calm in the face of anything, the captain was always at ease and professional regardless of what they were dealing with. But not today, his entire posture was tense and he hurriedly moved through the bar, weaving between tables and chairs to where some poor employee nervously stood with a bucket and a mop. 

It was weird to see the bar closed. Where it was usually bustling with people as the air was alive with music. 

“What’s the situation?”

“I clocked in and- and I was going to mop the bathrooms but there were people in there. I tried to ask them to leave but they weren’t responding.”

Owen offered the boy a pat on the shoulder, likely offering the kid one of his tight-lipped smiles. “You did the right thing by calling us.”

Michelle and Owen shared a glance as well as a curt nod before Michelle was gesturing for both teams to follow her to the bathroom.

As soon as Carlos pushed through that door, cringing at the screech of its hinges, he figured out why this call felt different. As much as he wished he hadn’t.

The bathroom was nothing short of gross. Carlos knew as much from the times he joined the team on a night out. A crunch sounded below his boot, Carlos tentatively lifted it to reveal the crushed barrel of a syringe. But that wasn’t even the most concerning thing.

His eyes trailed the tiles of the floor until his gaze fell on two forms. One slouched against the wall under the sinks, rubbing his face, and another with his back pressed to the wall of the only stall in the small bathroom. Even without turning on the lights, or taking a moment to blink.

Carlos’ stomach lurched and plummeted to his feet. _TK._

He was moving before he could even think. 

“Hey, TK. Hey. It’s Carlos.” He cupped TK’s cheeks, tilting his head up as carefully as he could. The paramedic’s skin was pale and clammy, but more concerning was the blue tint to his lips. “TK, can you look at me?”

TK was pliable in this grasp, his head lolling bonelessly into the throes of gravity, Carlos’ palms pressed to either side of his face being the only things keeping it upright. “C’mon, TK. Open your eyes. You know how much I love your green eyes.”

At this, TK blinked up at this slowly. But everything about the movement was lethargic, as if those few blinks had sapped the rest of the energy from his body. As much as Carlos was relieved that TK was indeed conscious and at least kind of responsive, the way he seemed to just stare right through Carlos was if he were made of glass made dread curl in his stomach.

“That’s great. Thank you. How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” TK groaned. 

Carlos laughed. There was no humour to it and it sounded more like he was choking on plastic than anything else. “What’d you take?” 

“I’m sorry.”

He knew what this was. His training and experience had taught him as much. But he wasn’t ready to put the pieces of that puzzle together yet, to connect those dots. He didn’t want to even picture the final image in his mind. 

The clammy skin, blue lips, pinprick pupils. The bruises and bar fights. The way TK seemed to tense around a bottle of pills, and how his dad would check up on him after certain calls.

Opioids. 

If Carlos had managed to put those pieces together a little earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be kneeling on a gross bathroom floor with a dazed and lethargic TK overdosing in front of him.

TK didn’t offer him anything else, instead choosing to slump forward. Carlos scrambled to cup his head, easing the other man into lying on the bathroom floor. With a quick sweep of his finger, Carlos made sure TK’s airway was clear and turned him on his side. 

“Michelle,” Carlos called. His voice broke as he tried to conceal his growing anxiety. He was freaking out, but Michelle would know what to do. She always did.

She was on the other side of TK in an instant. “What do we have here?”

“It’s TK,” Carlos choked out. 

“Do you know what he took?” Michelle asked, rolling TK onto his back and shining her penlight in his eyes. “Hey sweetheart, you can’t go falling asleep on me just yet,” she ushered, running her knuckles up and down his sternum. 

“TK, keep your eyes open,” Carlos pleaded, a new sense of desperation in his voice as he tapped TK’s cheek. “Please.”

TK’s eyes fluttered for a few seconds and fell shut. 

“No, you don’t get to do this,” Michelle said, adding more force behind her hand on his breastbone. “You have to stay awake, can you do that for me?” 

That was when the rhythmic rise and fall of TK’s chest disappeared, the movement coming to a stasis that made Carlos want to throw up. 

“Don’t you dare leave me. Not now. Please,” Carlos begged as he tried to feel for any air coming out of TK’s nose. Nothing. “‘Chelle, he’s not breathing.”

Michelle wordlessly handed Carlos the ambu bag. It felt strangely heavy in his grasp. He let his training kick in and tried not to let himself think about it too hard. All he could do was his job.

But this was TK. It wasn’t supposed to be TK.

TK was lively and energetic, truly a force to be reckoned with. He was the one who had pulled Carlos into the storage room with him before their shift ended only yesterday, his lips trailing over Carlos’ neck, nipping at the skin and he hastily unbuttoned Carlos’ uniform.

He shouldn’t be this still. 

Carlos can’t remember a time he had ever seem TK still. The paramedic was always fiddling with something. Even when he was completely professional and in that calm and collected zone he had when dealing with patients, he was still cracking jokes and smiles. 

“Give the narcan a few minutes,” Michelle said softly. She was far too good at keeping a passive expression but Carlos had known her too long. The tightness in her posture, the way she refused to lift her head to meet Carlos’ gaze, she masked her shaking hands by busying them, one pressed firmly to the inside of TK’s wrist, the other patting his shoulder. “Come on, kid,” she whispered, mostly to herself. 

They were all pleading for a miracle.

No one was ready to lose him yet.

The ventilation was pure muscle memory at this point, and Carlos was thankful for it. He could distance himself from the current moment, placing a film over his consciousness. He didn’t have time to think about it, if he stopped to dwell on the fact that TK wasn’t breathing, he was certain to fall apart. He couldn’t afford to shatter. 

TK could die right now.

The memory of TK Strand would never be enough to sustain him. Fleeting moments of brushed hands and eye contact that only lasted for a split second, he couldn’t be left with his hopes for more. TK was it for him, even if neither of them really knew it yet. 

As much as TK wanted to keep Carlos at an arm’s length, Carlos had no hope of keeping TK from taking up residence in his heart. Carlos had gotten used to the way his thoughts constantly pulled back to TK. The way the last thing on his mind every night was the craving to nestle into TK, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck, feeling the thrum of TK’s pulse against his skin. 

TK had always been taking care of Carlos, ever since the first night they met. He’d carefully tapped gauze to Carlos’ bleeding forehead, he’d given Carlos a heat pack and pain killers when his shoulder had flared up with pain, he’d cleaned the graze left by a bullet in Carlos’ arm and leant in to kiss him. He laughed at Carlos smacking his head on things or when he tripped, but still turned to him with a serious expression and asked if he was okay. 

And now that it was Carlos’ job to take care of TK, his life hung in the balance. 

“C’mon bud, open your eyes, let’s go,” Michelle pleaded. She tried to keep her voice even and professional, but there was no hiding the anxiety they shared as she administered yet another dose of narcan. 

He still wasn’t responding.

Their miracle was falling further and further out of reach as TK remained still. Carlos was grabbing onto every strand of hope as he could reach, but as he grasped them they crumbled into sand and fell through his fingers. 

Carlos wouldn’t be able to breathe until he knew TK was okay, but that was seeming less and less possible as the minutes passed. He’d just met TK, he barely knew the man, he couldn’t lose him now. Not when they had so many pages left of their story to tell. The movie doesn’t end before the climax.

“I’m okay,” TK groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he took a deep breath, “I was just sleeping.”

Carlos could cry from relief.

“Welcome back,” Owen said. Carlos hadn’t even noticed his Captain join them on the floor, too caught up in TK’s situation to take note of much else. 

“I didn’t go anywhere,” TK mumbled, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“No.” Owen swiftly wiped away the tears that spilled. “No, you didn’t.”

Despite his clumsy fumbling, TK grabbed his father’s hand and wound their pinky fingers together. “I pinky promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Owen cried harder, this time making no effort to swipe them away and Carlos couldn’t blame him. He felt like he was intruding on such a private moment. There were a lot of emotions in the air but none quite as heart-wrenching as Owen’s fear of losing his son. Carlos couldn’t even begin to imagine what Owen was feeling. 

Relief? 

Anger? 

Guilt? 

Fear?

Could it ever actually be described in words? 

TK clearly didn’t pick up on the atmosphere as he reached up and brushed the tears from Owen’s face. He’s clearly still out of it and has yet to catch up as he tries to poke the corner of his father’s mouth into a smile. “Why are you crying?”

In slow motion Carlos could see it dawn on him. Like waves rolling ashore, his soft dazed smile fell and he withdrew his hand, leaving it hanging midway in the air, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“Did I do it again?”

Owen offered him a small nod.

“I’m sorry, dad.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

🚑

Carlos couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding. The rest of the 126 had already visited TK a few hours ago. They had since dispersed, some with shifts to finish and others desperate to get some sleep. Originally, Carlos had been in the waiting room, anxiously bouncing his legs as they anticipated news, but whenever he let his mind wander, the image of TK’s unconscious body came hurtling to the forefront of his mind, and with it, Carlos’ breakfast. Michelle had followed him as he hurried to the bathroom and found himself on his knees, curled around a toilet.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. TK had been so close to death. Carlos had almost witnessed him die. 

They weren’t anything. Coworkers felt too informal. Friends felt too close. As much as Carlos would have liked it, boyfriends was too intimate. Carlos had seen every inch of TK’s body but not a shred of his soul. 

With reassuring words and her hand rubbing circles on his back , Michelle had stayed by his side. She didn’t complain or even try to disrupt Carlos’ meltdown, despite the fact that the floor of the men’s room was a less-than-ideal place to be. 

Even as Carlos had given up on expelling his organs and all but collapsed against the side of the stall, crying and shaking, Michelle had pulled him in for a hug without prompting. She knew what he needed from her.

“He’s going to be okay,” she kept whispering, perhaps even as a comfort to both of them. 

Carlos could definitely confirm that Michelle’s uniform was pretty good at absorbing his tears, and if she noticed the growing wet patch on her shoulder, she didn’t mention it. 

But now, hours later, after sitting on the floor and crying to his heart’s content, Carlos couldn’t catch his breath.He hesitated at the door, unsure of how to proceed. Owen’s back was to him and Carlos could see TK curled up on his side in the hospital bed.

So he just hovered in the doorway, holding his breath until Owen spared a look over his shoulder. 

“Carlos, would you like some time with him?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

Owen rotated his shoulders to seem more open and welcoming to Carlos, and offered the younger firefighter an awkward smile that didn’t meet his eyes. It was more of a polite gesture than an expression of happiness. His only son was laid up in a hospital bed, Carlos could only imagine what Owen was feeling right now. 

With the movement, Carlos could see more of TK. The paramedic’s complexion was washed out by the white hospital gown and sheets but lacked the blue tint that made Carlos’ blood run cold just thinking about it, and his arms were looped around Owen’s forearm as if his father were a stuffed toy. 

“He’s sleeping right now, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it. I know I would.”

Even despite the setting and the drip hooked up to TK’s arm, he looked peaceful as he slept. Carlos couldn’t recall any time since meeting the man that he had known TK to look so at ease.

“How’s he doing?” Carlos asked, crossing the room and settling himself down in the stiff plastic seat opposite Owen. TK’s back was to him, but at this point being ignored by TK Strand was all-too-familiar to Carlos and from this angle, Carlos could watch the rise and fall of his chest.

Owen shrugged. From this proximity, Carlos could see the exhaustion lining his features, he looked absolutely miserable and in desperate need of a coffee and a solid night of sleep. "He was awake, but he's really tired.”

He clearly noticed the way Carlos was anxiously shifting in his seat, trying to find anything to look at that wasn’t TK or Owen. 

“You don’t have to worry. They’ve got him on regular doses of narcan, he’ll be fine.”

Carlos didn’t have enough forethought to stop what next tumbled out of his mouth. “Has this happened before?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You seem too calm about this.” 

As soon as the words left Carlos’ mouth, he regretted them. It was none of his business but here he was, poking around in it because he was far too enamoured with the captain’s son for his own good. 

Owen was silent, his gaze fixated on TK’s face. Carlos was already halfway through an apology when the captain spoke. 

“Yeah, he’s struggled with substances for a long time now. It’s been a rough journey for him. I’d hoped moving here and starting fresh would help, but we’re back to where we started.”

“That’s why you moved, isn’t it? He said he had a rough breakup and things blew up in his face. Is this what he meant?”

Owen paused for a second, deliberating what he was going to say next, whether it was his secret to tell. “Yeah. He’s stronger than he thinks and much more than anyone could ever know, but he needed to get away from everything in New York.”

“Yeah, no, I get that.”

“He’s truly one of a kind, and I’m not saying that just because he’s my kid. No one else could go through the wringer like he has and come out the other end. It always hurts when he only thinks of himself as a failure or a disappointment. He’s given me plenty of grey hairs and many sleepless nights, but I’ll never be anything less than full of pride for that kid.” 

“He really is incredible. I wish he could see it.” 

TK groaned a little in his sleep and nestled closer into Owen, basically climbing into his lap. Owen just smiled down at his son, his entire being dripping with love as he ruffled TK’s hair.

“Look,” Owen sighed, disturbing the awkward silence as Carlos sat across from him, fidgeting and unsure of what to do with himself. “TK is an adult, and I prefer to not get involved in his love life. I don’t mind the two of you being together, I just want to know that you’re going to be there for him.”

“I’m not sure he wants much to do with me, sir, but I’ll be here for him as long as he lets me.”

🚑

Carlos didn’t know what he expected to find when he returned the next morning before his shift. He even got a teddy bear he saw in the gift shop that he thought TK would like, even though TK would insist he was too old for toys. So Carlos also brought a simple card with a few supportive messages from the 126, as well as a coffee for Owen, after he painstakingly texted everyone from the station to figure out what his order was. 

What he didn’t expect to find was TK with his back to the door and his arms wrapped around his father’s torso as he cried, fairly loudly. 

“I’m sorry, dad. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Owen locked eyes with Carlos, not even faltering in his reassurance of TK as he rubbed circles on his back. He smiled awkwardly and mouthed a quick “maybe later.” 

Carlos set the gifts down on the closest surface, a little table in the corner of the room and offered Owen a smile before quickly going back the way he came. Why did he feel like crying?

**Author's Note:**

> title: too close to touch - leave you lonely
> 
> uh... sorry?
> 
> [tumblr](http://terramous.tumblr.com/)


End file.
